Little Lady
by justagayshark
Summary: Brittany's been a prostitute from a young age and is used to a rough life, but finds a concerned and helpful friend when she bumps into Santana.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Thanks to Ellen for putting up with me, being patient, beta-ing and writing the summary that I refused to write. And thanks to you for reading :)**

**Little Lady  
**_Chapter One_

Brittany was used to this, the routine of waking up in a dark motel room and pulling herself up from the now empty bed. The sheets were sprawled all around her, damp in places and reeking of sex. She didn't always black out, though she wasn't always punched and slapped until she did. She hissed as she sat up, this time apparently being particularly painful, and closed her eyes tightly.

It was only when she felt the trickling down her back that she reached around with her hand, brushing her fingertips softly over the skin and feeling wet stickiness. She paused again, a sharp jolt of pain running throughout her body when she pressed her fingers onto the area, and brought her hand to her face. Blood. She was used to that too. Usually they paid extra and she was told well in advance, but she was used to it.

She turned to the money that was laying haphazardly at the end of the bed. He left extra.

With a heavy sigh and a tight closing of her eyes as she braced herself for the pain, she pulled herself from the bed and towards the bathroom.

- LL -

She washed slowly, being extra careful when the water hit her back directly, withstanding the sharp sting for a moment until it became a kind of nice, dull pain. She lifted her face, the water colliding with the bruise that lay across her left cheek and her slowly developing black eye. She lifted her hand to her lip, softly wiping the blood away from the cut that lay there.

She looked down and watched the reddened water as it fell and crawled down the drain. It was a weird feeling, one that she was so used to it that it had become almost familiar. She liked to watch it go, to watch it all be wiped away, even while knowing that she would still have those scars and bruises when she looked in the mirror. It was a satisfyingly sickening sight to see the water turn crimson and scurry away, as if it couldn't wait to escape. She kind of wished she could just follow it down.

She had pulled herself out of the shower after a few more minutes, quickly washing her hair with the tiny bottles of shampoo that she was sure somebody had left behind. It wasn't the nicest motel; it was one that she and a lot of the other girls used regularly, in fact. It was run by decent people. People that just needed money, and needed business, and weren't going to turn it away no matter what form it came in. Brittany never resented them for allowing this to happen. She always made sure to clear up a little after, though on the days like today when there was blood on the bedsheets there wasn't much she could do. She looked at the deep red patches on the bed for a moment longer before picking up the money and stuffing it into the shoulder bag that she had brought with her.

She was back in her short skirt, revealingly low cut top and high heels after a few minutes. She didn't own clothes that looked any different.

"Brittany!" the older woman called as she walked past the main lobby. She had been hoping to go unnoticed, put her head down and walk the short distance back into the city. She looked up, smiling at one half of the couple that ran this place, and gave a short wave. "How was your room?" she went on, dropping her cigarette to the ground and stamping it out.

The younger woman shrugged, still somehow maintaining the smile. "It was as good as usual, Karen. Thank you."

The woman nodded, her smile faltering a little as she finally took in the cuts and bruises on Brittany's face. The younger woman had such strikingly blue eyes and such a beautiful smile that it was hard to notice anything else, though the purpling bruise had now become Karen's focus. She sighed, looking at Brittany sadly as she watched the girl's eyes drop, knowing that she had seen it. "Stay safe, Brittany," she said simply, having given up giving her the lecture years earlier.

Brittany nodded, lifting her eyes to meet concerned hazel. "I will."

- LL -

It had taken a little longer than usual to get back into the city, though she had avoiding the usual alleys due to the fact that it was already 11pm and it was unsettlingly dark. There was something about tonight that felt off.

She hated walking through the busier parts of the city, which is another reason why she had often opted for back alleys and the more deserted areas, as sparse as they were. She hated walking past people, because everybody could tell. Just from looking at her, people could tell what she did. With her short skirt, barely there top and shiny black heels. It's not like she wanted to be wearing it, there was just no choice.

She wasn't too far away from the house when a particularly rowdy group of guys passed on the busy street, five pairs of eyes instantly finding Brittany. She heard a wolf whistle come from the main guy as they approached her, refusing to leave her alone even when she dropped her head further and tried to move past. "Hey there," he smirked down at her, wiggling his brows.

"Move, please," she tried, glancing up at him. When he didn't budge she groaned, moving forwards anyway and pushing him back slightly in the process.

"Hey hey hey," he mocked, moving his hands to tightly grip her upper arms and hold her in place. She flinched, swallowing hard as she stumbled back a little. "That's no way to treat a gentleman, little lady."

"Leave me alone," she tried again, looking down at the ground. She wished that she was better at this. Even after five years she still couldn't deal with this, with the men that got too aggressive. She just closed her eyes and took whatever it was that they were giving. And when the guy turned around, told his friends that he would meet them at the bar and pulled her into a side alley, she knew that this was one of those times. She also knew when he tugged her underwear down roughly, quickly slipped open the button of his jeans and hoisted her up against the wall, thrusting into her moments later.

It never got less painful either, she had noticed. A lot of the girls talked about how it was easier now, now that it happened so much that it was just kind of nothing any more. Not for Brittany. She felt pain every time he rammed himself inside of her, as he sunk his teeth into her shoulder and held her roughly against the wall with powerful hands. She closed her eyes, waiting for what was coming. When he picked up the pace and she felt the bricks of the wall behind her scraping across her already wounded back rapidly, and when he began grunting into her ear, she knew it was coming.

It was a few moments later that he came, slowing down his thrusts and leaning heavily against her. She kept her eyes closed and her head down, even after he pulled out and released her. She didn't even notice herself fall when he let her go, though when she opened her eyes slowly she found only his feet. She heard him do up his zipper, his breathing still uneven, and seconds later he was gone.

She let her head fall back against the wall, cringing at the intense pain that she felt in her back, the cuts that had began their healing earlier now reopened and bleeding more than before. Her breathing was shaky and she took a moment to calm it, just sitting and staring at the building opposite, the bare skin of her backside on the dirty ground. She hissed at the pain as she shifted, going into her bag and pulling out a tissue, wiping what the guy had left behind from her inner thigh. She threw it to the side, lifting herself from the ground slightly and pulling her underwear back into place.

She stumbled as she found her feet again, leaning against the wall and taking a second to regain her composure before she pulled up her bag and flung it over her shoulder, her eyes snapping shut at the pain. She was always in pain.

She began to walk from the alley, though her attempts to calm herself and her breathing hadn't worked at all. Her head was pounding, the ground in front of her an array of colourful spots as she tried to focus. She held her bag tightly with an unsteady hand, holding a deep breath before releasing it shakily, hoping for it to make some sort of difference that never came. Everything still looked so fuzzy, her body was burning but at the same time she could feel herself shivering.

It was then that she felt something solid collide with her.

"Are you_ fucking_ kidding me?" came a sharp voice, thick with anger. Brittany looked up, trying to focus, though she could only make out the vague outline of the figure, her face contorted by the fuzzy spots that clouded her vision.

"I'm sorry," Brittany muttered, her heart racing as she shook her head, trying harder to clear it. She couldn't catch her breath and her head was spinning. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to. I'm sorry, please."

The other woman didn't respond, though Brittany could hear the sounds of the busy street around them, it all sounding so far away. Like she was under water and drowning. It sounded like it used to sound when she would go swimming with her mom and you could hear the people talking above the water.

"Hey," the other woman spoke again, her voice suddenly much softer. It was such a soft yet raspy voice. Like caramel. Brittany felt her brows furrow. Why couldn't she see? "Hey, I didn't mean..." she tried again, taking a step and reaching out to touch Brittany's arm. As soon as her skin came into contact with the other woman's, however, Brittany quickly flinched away. She retracted her hand immediately, letting it hover with uncertainty for a second before she again focused on the woman's face. It was battered. Her skin was purple and blue, a cut on her lip and a dark black circle around her left eye. "Oh god, what happened?"

Brittany closed her eyes tightly, looking down at the ground and focusing hard. She had to get a grip and clear her head. She had to stop burning. She had to get away from her, and here, and just get back to the house. Once she was back there it would be fine, she could just slip into her room, throw in her earphones and sleep.

"Are...are you okay?" the voice came again, even quieter this time. She sounded so unsure, and like she genuinely cared. She sounds like that doctor that treated her during her first year, the first time she had been hit and ended up with concussion. She had managed to get out of the hospital before they returned though, finding her way back to the house like he had told her to. Nobody cared though, not really, they all knew what she was. This woman probably did too. Just one look at her clothes and you could tell what she was doing walking the streets in the dark, stumbling from a back alley.

Brittany focused hard for a second longer before lifting her eyes, opening them and finally finding that the colourful spots had gone. She looked at the fuzzy outline of the woman, waiting for a moment longer before everything came into focus. Concerned brown eyes looked back at her, along with strikingly dark black hair and puffy, parted lips. She was like, supermodel beautiful. Brittany suddenly felt intimidated, especially when she took in the woman's face and then found her blazer, shirt and pencil skirt. She was definitely some sort of successful professional, even with a looks that could probably make her all the money she needed anyway.

"Are you okay?" the woman repeated. Somehow, having the face combined with the voice struck Brittany more.

She looked down at ground only for a second, though when she did she found papers sprawled across the sidewalk along with a now open and empty coffee cup, the contents splashed across the paper. "Oh god," she muttered quickly, her eyes widening. "I made you drop all your things. I'm so sorry." She scrambled to the ground, grabbing the papers one by one into her hands at a panicked pace.

"No," the other woman tried, her voice still soft. "Hey, no. You don't need to..." she went on, looking down and watching the girl as she scrambled from paper to paper, taking them and creating a neat pile in her hands, handling them with care. She reached out to to rest her hand on her shoulder to perhaps get her attention, though she quickly remembered what happened earlier and decided against it. She watched her for a second longer before she crouched down herself, opposite Brittany, and moved her hands to lay them on the papers. Brittany halted suddenly, wide blue eyes finding brown. Santana frowned at the look. Like she was scared of the world. "It's okay," she assured with a small smile, hoping that it was in some way comforting. "Don't worry about it. Paper can be reprinted, right?"

Brittany watched her for a long moment before releasing her grip on the paper, allowing Santana to take them from her. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, looking down at her now empty hands but keeping herself crouched in the same position.

"You apologise too much," Santana pointed out with a chuckle, simply placing the pile of ruined papers back on the ground. She lifted her eyes back to Brittany, again her attention focusing immediately on the cuts and bruises on her face. She looked so worn and tired, yet young at the same time. She still looked terrified, her entire body shaking and yet sweat was coating her face. "What happened?" she tried again, her voice tentative.

Brittany looked up, eyes wide. She managed to calm herself after a moment, shrugging in what she hoped looked like nonchalance. "I got into a fight. At a bar."

Santana frowned skeptically but nodded anyway, knowing that now probably wasn't the time. Nor would Brittany really want to talk to a stranger about this stuff. Brittany didn't strike her as the fighting type, despite having only known her for a few minutes. Especially considering how apologetic she was when they literally bumped into each other a moment earlier. But she wouldn't push. "I live like, two minutes away," Santana said finally. "If you need to get cleaned up then you're more than welcome to use my place."

Brittany looked even more surprised when she met Santana's eyes again, something that made the shorter woman chuckle softly.

"Think of it as an apology," she tried again. "For walking into you and turning on bitch mode."

Brittany had fallen into thought after that, considering her options. There was really only one answer though. There was no way she could go to Santana's, not with her apparently so curious about what had happened. Brittany was an awful liar, which is why he had always made sure that she was in and out of the house without much chance of meeting with anybody in between. She was never one of the girls that would be allowed to shop or really go out at all, because the police were always trying to pry information. Some girls were good at lying or deterring them, Brittany was never good at that stuff.

"I can't," she said finally, shaking her head and looking at Santana almost apologetically. "I have to meet someone."

Santana nodded with a friendly smile. "Well, do you have a cellphone?" A cellphone that contained two numbers; his and her own. She took a moment before she nodded, Santana beaming back at her when she did. "Can I have it for a sec?"

Brittany pulled open her bag after a few seconds of thought, sifting around and finding her cell in one of the little side pockets. She handed it to Santana, receiving a soft laugh in response. Santana lifted the phone, flipping it open dramatically. "Retro," she remarked, Brittany blushing and looking down. Realising her mistake, Santana quickly backtracked. "I've missed these babies. iPhones get the job done but flip phones were the shit."

She has never felt more satisfied than she did when she saw Brittany smile at that.

She pulled out her own phone, handing it to Brittany. When the girl looked at it with confused eyes she patiently took it, finding the contact list for her and handing it back. They spent a moment tapping in their details, Brittany taking a little longer than Santana, before they handed them back to one another.

Santana looked at the screen and smirked, her eyes finding the other woman seconds later. "Brittany," she said with a smile. "That name fits you perfectly."

Brittany smiled, nodding as she read Santana's name. "You suit Santana, too."

"It's as if our parents knew!" Santana joked, exaggerating her words with animatedly large eyes. Brittany smiled again, even releasing a small breath of a laugh. Santana pushed herself up, straightening out again and and being followed after a moment by Brittany. "I want you to text or call me when you get home, okay?" she tried, her expression serious.

Brittany nodded, slipping her cellphone back into her bag. They fell into silence, Brittany shifting uncomfortably under Santana's curious gaze. She wasn't used to talking to people like this, on the street. New people. She knew all of the girls, she talked to them often. Clients didn't really do much talking though, and with not really leaving the house too much she had never gotten used to this.

"It was nice to meet you, Brittany," that raspy voice came again, accompanied by a friendly smile as Santana gathered her things together. Brittany nodded in reply, Santana turning and slowly walking away.

- LL -

Brittany had dropped her head and walked fast after their encounter, ignoring the pain that it caused as she increased her speed. She was used to it now, living with constant pain in at least one part of her body. Sometimes it was worse than others, sometimes it was just kind of annoying. Today was one of the worst times. And when she had slipped into her room and peeled off her top, seeing the crimson red that was coating it, she realised that it probably was as bad as she imagined.

She moved over to the mirror, careful to avoid looking at her face, and quickly examined the cuts. They were deeper than she had thought, though she wasn't entirely sure what would have caused them. A lot of the other girls had talked about the guys that had the blood kink. It costed more, but they would use something sharp and hold it against their skin as they thrust into them, drawing blood gradually every time they entered and pushed. It definitely looked like a possibility, though whatever he was holding must have been sharp. And big.

She was kind of glad that he had knocked her out before it.

She jumped at the knock on the door, the person not waiting for a reply before stepping in. He smiled as she came into view, leaving the door open slightly as he entered. "Hey, Britt," he greeted. She knew what he was here for. She had rushed to her room and forgotten to stop by the office to drop off his money. With that realisation, she quickly turned around to pick up her bag, not realising that her back was now on full view. "Jesus Christ," he gasped, moving toward her to get a better look. She straightened up, looking back over her shoulder as he bent down a little behind her, still looking at the cuts. "I have some dressing downstairs, we'll put some on them. It doesn't look like it needs stitches, but we'll put that stuff on to make sure it doesn't get infected." She nodded, smiling politely at him as he straightened up. "He didn't order that..." he mused, his brows furrowing.

Brittany nodded. "He left extra," she replied, bending down to pick up her bag and placing it down on the bed. She pulled out the notes that she had stuffed into the side pocket, handing them to him.

He stood and counted, his brows lifting. "Either he was feeling guilty or he's just incredibly generous," he laughed, flipping through the last few notes. "This is nearly two hundred dollars over what we agreed." His smile was huge when he looked back at her, and she offered a small one in return before again dropping her gaze. Generous. He had knocked her out cold, held a blade to her back while he fucked her and _he _was generous. "Here," he said quickly, noticing her expression. "You definitely earned it."

Brittany looked at the notes that he held out to her. There was at least one hundred dollars worth in his hand, but she quickly shook her head, pushing it back towards him.

He sighed, putting the money back onto the pile that he held in his other hand. "At least order some new stuff, expensive stuff, and I'll sort it out for you."

She nodded with a polite smile, her eyes falling again seconds later.

It was weird, this dynamic that they had. He was caring and kind, yet at the same time he was the one doing this to her. When he offered her things and was nice to her it was only because she had done well and got him money, only because she had been sold to have sex with somebody. She knew that he wasn't a good guy, she knew and yet something in the back of her mind, or something in her heart, tugged whenever he spoke to her like this.

Maybe it was a family thing.

"Well done, Britt," he smiled, placing a strong hand on her shoulder and squeezing once. "Rest up, and make sure you have the make-up that you need to cover that tomorrow night. It's Johnson."

Brittany nodded as he squeezed one last time, moving over to the door seconds later and letting himself out of the room.

She felt a lot calmer without him in here. She didn't really like anybody being in her room. They never took clients to their own personal bedrooms, there were other places for that. It wasn't a huge house, though there were a quite few bedrooms and a few floors. Apparently he had been left it when somebody in the family died, though she doesn't remember that story very clearly. It wasn't in the centre of the city, but it wasn't far away either. It only took a few minutes to walk into the busiest area. It was a good place to keep it all hidden, in a place where nobody really cared enough to do too much about it. It was just accepted that the house was what it was, and that the girls that came and went were doing what they were doing.

Brittany had never taken money for what she had done, not once in the five years. It never used to be offered, granted, but then it was there for the taking but she never did. Maybe it was a denial thing. She didn't want to take the money because then she really would be being paid to sleep with men, the money would be going directly to her. She would be just another hooker.

She didn't want that kind of money. She didn't buy anything for herself. The bills were paid, food was bought, anything that she required was paid for with the money that he held. None of the girls kept any, though they were all kept by him. Brittany didn't mind much, it's not like she really left the house unless she was on her way to meet a client anyway.

She did wish that she had some clothes that weren't short and revealing and horribly tight. Because a lot of the business was done within the house, they weren't allowed to slouch around in sweats and baggy t-shirts. She kind of hated it, the way she craved that comfort so much. The only time she felt herself really breathe was at night when she lay naked beneath her covers.

She unclasped her bra, letting it fall down her arms and to the ground. She glanced down momentarily, regretting it when she caught sight of the large bruise that lay across her chest. She had been awake for that, when he held her in place by pressing down against her chest with both hands. She sighed, slowly lowering herself into bed and pulling the covers up to her chin. She lay for a second, staring at the ceiling before she remembered that she had to text Santana. She felt a weird tingle in her stomach as she reached into her bag and pulled out her cellphone, though it was replaced by confusion when she saw that she had a text. She quickly opened it.

_**Santana Lopez:  
**I hope you're okay. _

She smiled at the screen in spite of herself. As sad as she knew that it was, she had never received a text from a friend like that. The only two numbers in her phone were her own and his. He sent texts sometimes, asking where she was if it was late or telling her about something that might concern her, but she never got texts from friends. She read it over again before typing out her reply, making sure to be slow as to not make any mistakes.

_I am. Srry for not replyin sooner, I was busy._

Hitting send, she set her cellphone down on her bedside table. She had quite a nice bedroom, though really that was only down to herself. All of the girls had the same; a bed, wardrobe, draws and a bedside table. If they did particularly well then they would get 'gifts' like TVs and radios. They had the same things to do with what they chose, and some girls let their rooms just become as run down and dirty as they felt. Brittany didn't. She wanted that one place that she could go to and feel calm, if only for a few hours. It had become an obsession that had started when she first arrived here five years ago, and it had never changed. She makes sure that it's clean, that everything is in order and put neatly away. There are very few things that she has ownership over, control of, and so she treasures what she does.

_**Santana Lopez**_

_It's fine. I'm glad you're okay. Maybe now I can sleep lol._

'Maybe now I can sleep'. She had been worried about her? She had met her briefly in the street for a couple seconds and she had been worried? Brittany's smile broadened and she brought her left hand to the screen, absent-mindedly tracing the letters that she found there. She felt embarrassed when her vision blurred slightly with the first sign of tears, though when she realised that she was alone she let them be, one slipping slowly and silently from the side of her eye and down to the pillow below.

It wasn't that she had said anything magnificently moving, because she hadn't. For Santana it was just probably a passing comment, Brittany knew that. But it felt like so long ago that she was cared for. Even before being sent here five years ago, and even when her uncle tries to push cash into her hands and tells her how well she is doing, especially when the men pulled at her hair and threw her to the ground like she meant nothing, like her only use was to lay back and open her legs. She had resigned herself to the fact that it was probably true, that she would probably be here in another five years, living her life in exactly the same way. A few of the women here were in their thirties, some even older. There weren't many, about five of them at the moment, though they were always coming and going. Brittany was the youngest, had been the youngest person to ever be working there when she turned up. It was like a unique selling point for her uncle, to offer up a child. He was paid much more than he was for any of the other girls, the fact that this was his niece apparently having no play in what he would allow them to do.

But here she was five years later, still stuck in this place. It felt like a lifetime ago that she was at home with her mother and sister, safe and in school like any of the other kids.

_Srry if I worried you. Thanks for today._

It was less than thirty seconds later that she got her reply.

_Unwarranted, but I'll take it. Goodnight Brittany :)_

She fell asleep soon after.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Sorry for the wait! And thank you to Ellen as usual :)**

* * *

**Little Lady  
**_Chapter Two_

Apparently one of the girls had an early client in the backroom downstairs because Brittany woke up at 6am, her eyes fluttering open slowly to the sound of exaggerated moans and grunting. She sighed heavily, reaching for her iPod at the sound of a high pitched moan from downstairs.

She quickly threw her earphones in, pressing play and turning the volume up to the highest setting. She stayed like that for a few minutes, closing her eyes and willing sleep to come again. She was almost sure that it wouldn't but she was willing to wait. She had a client at two, but until then she was free.

It didn't feel like it though, especially when that client was one of the high court judges that lived a few towns away. He lived in some big, swanky house with his wife and three children. He had been coming to Brittany for over four years now, she wasn't sure whether she was thirteen or fourteen the first time, though it didn't really matter. He liked it when she 'played' resistant and nervous, though she's sure that he took that from their first time when she _was_ resistant and nervous. She was surprised he hadn't looked elsewhere, considering she was older now and no longer a minor. She was still one of the youngest girls that worked in the area though. She had met a few that were in their early twenties, though none younger. It was intimidating when she had been even younger than she was now, even the girls that she lived with would hardly acknowledge her. She wasn't sure whether it was the age gap, the fact that Matt was her uncle, or the fact that she was pulling in so much business because she was thirteen.

She had never really stopped to think about it, it didn't matter either way. She didn't really have friends, though she had a few acquaintances. A few of the girls would act civil and help her out when she needed it, especially now that she was older and had been here the longest out of everybody bar one. Cindy had been here for a year or two longer than her, though she was in her late forties now. Brittany found it kind of sad that she had never had a husband or kids, had just always done this. Slept with people, took money from them and then moved on to the next. She wondered whether she would be doing the same when she was forty-seven. She couldn't imagine a way out of it now anyway, and she hadn't finished high school, which meant no college. There was really nothing to do except what she was doing, getting money and being looked after in return.

With another sigh she sat up, pulling one earphone out slightly to test whether things had quieted down. When she heard no noise she pulled the other one away, getting to her feet and stretching. She winced, instantly slowing her movements and trying not to double over from the pain. She could feel her skin stretch where the cuts were and suddenly her head pounded. She closed her eyes, pulling at the hem of her shirt and dragging it slowly over her head. It felt a little better when the cuts were left uncovered.

She turned to look in the mirror for a moment, focusing on her bruised midsection. She doesn't remember it ever _not _being bruised, there was always some part of her body that was black and blue. Usually it was her chest, her torso and her inner thighs. She had kind of become used to that pain; a few pills usually helped.

She walked over to her dresser, careful not to look at her face in the mirror as she did so, and pulled out two small pills. She swallowed them quickly, no longer needing the assistance of water, and began looking for something to wear.

- LL -

She walked into the small kitchen area, looking into the almost empty cupboards for anything that she could eat. She hadn't eaten since dinner time yesterday and her stomach was aching. She pulled out the bread, only two slices left at the bottom of the bag. She pulled one out, placing the bag back and beginning to pick at the slice, breaking some off and throwing it into her mouth.

"Hey, baby," a voice came from behind her and she turned, smiling politely at the familiar face. "Sorry if I woke you up this mornin'," the woman laughed, walking over to the open window and placing a cigarette into her mouth, lighting it swiftly.

Brittany shrugged, taking another piece of the bread into her mouth. "No big deal. Six is early to have someone over, though."

Cindy chuckled, taking the cigarette from her mouth and blowing the smoke through the window. "Apparently he's taking the family away on holiday. Their flight leaves at nine, but he had to leave to take care of some _'work issues'_ for an hour or so."

Brittany nodded, looking down and choosing to eat rather than talk. She hated that, knowing that they were having sex with people's husbands and boyfriends, that she was helping to ruin the marriage of some kid's mother and father. She was used to it though, so it didn't get to her like it used to. She used to cry about it at night, though really that was only because one of the girls had made a comment about it when she had just finished with what was now a regular client.

Apparently his wife still had no idea.

"You okay, hon?" the woman asked, interrupting her thoughts. She was standing with her arms crossed, leaning against the counter and holding her cigarette loosely between her fingers. Her top was skewed, her laced bra visible, and her skirt was on a little wonky. Her eyes looked as tired and worn as ever. Brittany didn't remember ever seeing Cindy _not_ looking tired.

Brittany nodded, deciding to smile in spite of her thoughts. She glanced at the clock. "I should go get ready. I have Johnson at two."

Cindy nodded, her face falling a little. She remembered Cindy being against her starting at such a young age. She had heard Cindy and Matt arguing about it, though there was the sound of a loud slap and then nothing more was ever said. She had been kind of confused at the time, having no idea what 'clients' were and what exactly was 'perverted'. She kind of figured it out herself over time. "Good luck, Britt."

Brittany smiled back, throwing the rest of the bread into her mouth. "Thanks," she spoke with her mouth full, Cindy breaking into a laugh at the sound and at the small bit of bread that she had accidentally spat from her mouth.

- LL -

He hadn't noticed the scratches and bruises too much, which was good. He liked her to look made up and 'perfect'. She had painted the make-up onto her face, wincing when she covered the small cuts. She hadn't worried too much about the cuts on her back. He was was different from the other clients in the way that he treated her. He would act like he was some sort of father figure, wanting to keep her safe and calm her down. She figured it was because of their first time, her first time. She had cried and tried to cower away and he had pulled her into his arms, the arms that she thought genuinely cared for a second. She had wrapped her arms around him and sobbed into his chest, gripping onto him like she used to when her father would do this.

But then his belt was undone and his zipper was down and her panties had been pushed aside. It hurt a lot the first time, like she was being stabbed and kicked at the same time, over and over again.

She had cried harder and he had cradled her again, still pushing himself into her. It was weird, the fact that he was causing the pain and trying to soothe it at the same time. She didn't know what to think. She had managed to stop thinking after the first ten or so times. She just switched off and did whatever they asked, took their money and went back to the house.

She remembered when she used to call it home. She also remembered the place that she used to call home before that, too.

She took the money from the dresser, rolling it up and shoving it into her bag. It was only 4pm now, and she was showered and cleaned up when she left the room. It was a much more impressive place, the hotel that he always chose to use. They had a large suite, and he would always allow her to use room service or any of the other things that she could find around the room. She never did. She just showered, took the money that he would leave neatly on the side and then left.

She did take the dresses that he would buy her, however, though they were really for his benefit. Brittany's usual attire was revealing; short skirts and low cut tops that were always skin tight. He didn't want to bring her here with the possibility of people _knowing_, so he bought her clothes. Nice clothes, too. She had on the red dress that he had bought her. It was an evening dress, though not too elaborate or fancy. It was simple, but it had a feeling of class that he was clearly trying to maintain. She would meet him in the room and leave after him. Nobody would see them together, and if they did then it could easily pass off as some sort of business meeting, with her dressed up and looking passable.

It worked out.

She was pretty certain that he would probably be her favourite client if it weren't for the memory of the first time, and the subsequent others. He had sort of distanced himself now that she was older. He always tried to get her to act younger, appear younger once the door to the hotel room was closed. It was like he was constantly trying to recreate that first time, though she was certain that he never had. He had never come like he did that time. She remembered it, though she wasn't sure if it only looked that way because she was so much smaller.

She felt a little better about walking down the street when dressed like this, like she fit in amongst everybody else. She looked like some sort of professional and she kind of liked that, the feeling of being _someone_. She felt childish, like she was playing dress-up, but that was always her favourite thing to do back home when she would prance around the house, dressing as a princess and demanding that her mother and father play the king and the queen. It made her feel important, like she was something bigger than who she was. Old habits die hard.

She walked into a small diner a little further down the street, remembering Matt insisting that she took some of the money for herself yesterday. It wasn't the same money but she doubted he would mind. She'd just tell him and have him take it out of yesterday's. She took a seat at a booth, still that nervous pride bubbling in her stomach. She looked up at the people sat in the booths in front of her and nobody was looking. Nobody knew what she did, what she was, nobody could see the cuts and bruises on her face. She smiled and looked back down at the menu, her eyes quickly scanning the burgers. The bread she ate this morning really hadn't done anything for her hunger.

"Are you ready to order?" a young girl asked with a smile, stood bedside the table with a notepad in hand.

Brittany thought for a moment, looking at the menu again briefly. "Can I just order a drink first?" she asked, kind of wanting to stay here for a while. She hated going back to the house, though she knew she would have to. She didn't have another client today. The sun was out, and her red dress was settling the usual anxiety that she felt while out in public, and this place seemed kind of empty anyway. She could do this.

The girl nodded with a smile. "Sure. What's it gonna be?"

"Diet coke, please," Brittany smiled back, placing down the menu on the table and watching as the girl left with one final nod.

It felt nice to be smiled at like that.

Her own grin quickly fell when she heard her phone beep in her bag. Her brows furrowed and panic quickly overcame her. She kind of didn't want to look. She could use the 'I didn't have my phone on' excuse later when he asked, but he only ever texted her when he had a last minute client or had a problem that he needed to see her about. He was usually pretty angry when he did, too.

Regardless, she reached into her bag and pulled out her cell, flipping it open hesitantly.

When she was met with the name Santana Lopez, however, her brows furrowed further.

_Are you stalking me?_

Brittany frowned, looking it over to make sure she had read it right. Confirming that she had she quickly set about replying.

_No. What? I dont rlly know how to stalk somebody. _

She waited for a moment, holding her open phone in her palm. It beeped a few seconds later.

_I think you do. You look nice by the way. Red is good on you._

Brittany felt herself panic a little when she read it. Why had she given her number to a complete stranger? It was dangerous. People never meant well, not people that took your number from your cell phone and then texted you about things that they shouldn't know.

_What? Are u stalking me?_

She replied quickly, her confused frown still in place. She was staring intently at her cellphone, not noticing when a figure approached her table. She didn't hear the chuckle or see the roll of the eyes. A hand moved over, flipping her phone closed in front of her.

Brittany jumped, snapping her eyes to the figure to find Santana standing beside the table with a raised brow, a glass of coke in her hand. "Space out, much?" she chuckled, placing the glass on the table and taking a seat opposite Brittany. "Tina tells me that's yours. And I ordered you a bacon and cheese burger with fries."

Brittany furrowed her brows, staring at the glass of coke for a moment before looking up into amused brown eyes. "Why?"

Santana shrugged. "Call it intuition."

Brittany shook her head, trying to shake away the confusion. She had no idea where Santana had come from, who Tina was, why she had her coke and how she knew that her favourite burger was bacon and cheese. She had also never heard of 'intuition' but it sounded intimidating.

"Been somewhere fancy?" Santana asked, interrupting her thoughts.

Brittany tried to ignore the instant panic at being asked the question. _This_ was why she didn't do this kind of thing. She didn't talk to people, thiswasn't her thing. She shouldn't have come here. She didn't understand why she kept getting herself into such stupid situations. She was so stupid. "No," she said finally, not really sure if that was right.

Santana watched her curiously for a moment, looking her up and down. Brittany shifted at the sight, folding her arms a little to cover herself. "You dressed like _that _to come to _this_ diner?" she laughed, her skeptical brow raised again.

Brittany nodded defiantly with a shrug, picking up her glass and taking a sip to avoid having to speak.

Santana shook her head eventually, releasing a short laugh as she did so. "You're a little odd, aren't you?" she said simply.

Brittany frowned as she placed down her glass. Santana was still just watching her. "Everybody's a little odd," she said firmly, meeting her eyes. If there was anything that she had learnt from having done what she had for so long, it's that even the people that look 'normal' had their secrets. Everybody has weird things about themselves, whether they're big or small. Sometimes they were on their body, things that they were shy of. They would buy sex rather than try to actually find somebody that would willingly have sex with them, convinced that such a girl didn't exist. Brittany didn't agree. Everybody has somebody. She thought for a moment, wondering whether the same was true for her. If it wasn't for Cindy then why would it be for her? Cindy was still alone.

"Hey," Santana's voice sounded through the haze, catching Brittany's attention. "Are you always this spacey?" she asked with an amused edge to her voice.

Brittany shook her thoughts away, shrugging. "I like to think."

Santana nodded, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly. "You look much better than last night, by the way," Santana commented, leaning back into her chair a little and making herself comfortable. "You seemed pretty panicked."

Brittany felt her cheeks burn instantly, her hands clasping together at her lap and her fingers entwining with one another, twisting and turning. "I had been out. Long night."

Santana accepted the answer with a nod, though she was almost certain that it wasn't the whole truth. "As long as you're okay," Santana smiled. "Nice make-up on the face."

Brittany lifted her eyes to find Santana winking back at her, a smug smile on her face. Like she had figured something out that she shouldn't have. Brittany's heart raced, though she knew that she would have clearly seen the cuts last night on the street. She nodded. "Girls punch a lot harder these days," she tried with a timid smile, again picking up her glass and taking a quick drink from it. She needed something to do to distract herself. Or distract Santana.

Santana nodded with a laugh. "Very true."

The girl appeared after a few moments of silence, placing the burger and fries in front of Brittany with that same kind smile on her face. "Thank you," Brittany offered, eyeing the food like a savage dog.

"Thanks, T," she heard Santana say softly, Brittany looking up to see the other girl nod in response.

"You're still coming around later, right?" she asked, picking the notepad out of her front pocket. "Puck's obsessed with you coming over to see the new place."

Santana nodded. "If you make it a party then I'm there." Tina rolled her eyes, clicking her pen and readying herself to take the order of a nearby table. "Come on! You need to have a house warming. You're eighteen years of age."

"And you should be maturing. You're almost twenty."

"Blasphemy!" Santana gasped, though the amused smile was still on her face. "I'll mature when I wrinkle."

"You're going to be having botox until you're eighty."

"Then I will mature when I'm eighty," Santana shrugged with a smirk. "Get booze and friends and make this fun. Fuck Puck."

They both paused for a moment, just staring at each other, before breaking into laughter. Brittany felt herself chuckle along, partly because their laughter was infectious and also because really, 'fuck Puck'.

"See you later, whore," Tina whispered, shuffling away from their table.

When Santana turned to find Brittany staring intently at Tina's back with an unmistakable scowl, her own expression quickly changed. "You okay?" she asked, confused.

Brittany watched Tina for a moment longer, looking down at her food quickly and picking up her fork. "I don't like that."

Santana glanced behind her and then back towards Brittany, even more confused than before. "...Tina?" she asked curiously.

Brittany shook her head, placing a fry in her mouth and staying silent. She chanced a look up towards Santana when she placed the second fry in her mouth, finding the other woman simply looking on at her and waiting patiently. Patience. Another thing that Brittany had never known anybody to have when it came to her. Santana didn't even look annoyed that she was being quiet, usually there would be another red hand print on her cheek by now. "That word," she admitted finally, her voice low and eyes dropped again.

"Oh," Santana voiced in recognition, continuing to watch Brittany for a few moments before nodding her head. "Sorry," she offered sincerely, leaning forwards a little. "That's just the way we are. We insult each other all the time, but we're friends." She paused for a moment, watching Brittany's face contort a little in confusion. "That's a little weird, huh?"

Brittany smiled when she heard Santana chuckle, nodding in agreement. "A little."

"But I'll make sure she doesn't say it when you're around," Santana added with a smile.

'When you're around'? She expected Brittany to be 'around'?

Santana glanced at her watch quickly, groaning when she read the time. "I have to get back," she said apologetically, Brittany pulling the burger away from her mouth as she began to chew the huge chunk that she had just bitten off. "It was nice running into you again. Maybe we should organise it next time?"

Brittany eyed her for a moment, silent as she did so. She held her burger in her hand, her chewing having slowed down considerably. She didn't understand what Santana wanted, what she was getting from this. She was definitely getting something or else she wouldn't have even considered meeting Brittany again, let alone actually voicing it.

"You have my number," she said with a friendly smile as she stood, looking down at Brittany for a long moment as vulnerable blue eyes looked back. "Give me a call any time. Even if you just need to talk."

Brittany nodded, sending Santana a small smile as she did the same.

"See you around, Brittany."

And then she was gone.


End file.
